


Breakfast in Bed

by Beathen



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Lizzington - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6253630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beathen/pseuds/Beathen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liz is suffering from seasonal allergies and gets an usual wake-up call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast in Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Post 3x11 (The Director, Conclusion), AU - Tom Keen is out of the picture and Liz isn't pregnant. Un-betad. Disclaimed. This is my first Blacklist fanfic so comments and critique are appreciated!

Monday morning started out like any other – Liz woke, showered, dressed, and made her way to the Post Office to start working on completing the paperwork required from catching another blacklister. After months on the run and being exonerated she relished the normalcy that came from typing reports and analyzing the points she missed on her initial profile of the subject. By 3 pm, however, she was only halfway done due to the slight pain beneath her temples, watery eyes, and a runny nose. Grabbing the second to last tissue out of the box on her desk, Liz groaned and put her forehead on her cool desk to relieve some of the pressure.

“You look like shit, Keen,” Ressler said as he entered their shared office, sitting at his own desk facing her.

Liz lifted her head slightly, trying to glare at him. “Thanks. That makes me feel _so_ much better,” she said, sarcastically. To her own ears, though, her words seemed muffled and pathetic. 

That wasn’t good. The symptoms were starting to compound on each other and get worse with each passing moment. After everything she had overcome it wasn’t fair that her body was betraying her in such a noticeable way. Despite her obvious distress, though, Ressler continued on.

“No offense, but…”

Liz tried to tune out the endless litany of words on how agents who operated at less than 100% were a risk to themselves and others and how she was being watched closely, but the stinging in her eyes and the building internal frustration at Ressler’s words couldn’t be stopped.

“FINE!” Liz said with raised voice. “I can’t concentrate anyway. I’m going home to take some medication and sleep off whatever this is. Okay?” To punctuate her thoughts, she sneezed into her final tissue.

Ressler’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click as he narrowed his eyes at her, assessing her state of being. “No need to get testy, Keen, I’m just trying to help.” Liz dabbed at her watery eyes and nodded. At this point, it was better if _she_ stopped talking before alienating her former partner. “I’ll let Cooper know you’re going home.”.

“Thanks,” she replied with a sigh. After closing the open folder on her desk she grabbed her purse and coat, turned the ringer off on her phone, and headed out to the elevator.

The moment she stepped into the parking garage her senses were assaulted; the light was a little too bright and the aroma of heating pavement was curiously absent as she made her way to her car. After donning a pair of sunglasses to dim the glare she pulled out into traffic in the early afternoon sunlight. May was a beautiful time of year in New York… the weather was becoming warmer and all the dormant plants were in full bloom in preparation for summer. But Liz couldn’t care less – all she wanted was to curl up in her bed and forget the pain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The clink of dishes caused Liz to wake with a jolt. She glanced toward the door to see it was still firmly shut and she scrambled for her bedside table to find her phone. But it wasn’t there… and she should’ve been alone in her apartment. In a flash of memory, despite her mental haziness, Liz remembered she’d left everything in her purse in the main room. After returning home the day before, she’d tossed it onto the floor by the door in her haste to raid the medicine cabinet in the en suite bathroom for antihistamines before stripping her outer clothes, pulling on a t-shirt, and climbing into bed.

Now, laying in her bed with no phone and no clue who was in her new apartment, she threw the covers back in order to search the bedroom and bathroom for any kind of object that could be used as a weapon. Before she could put one foot on the floor, however, Liz saw the door quietly swing wide and the blurry silhouette of a man’s figure in the doorway. Liz gasped and pulled the blankets on her bed back over her body as Reddington entered the room.

“Good morning, Lizzie. I hope you’re feeling better today,” he said as he walked towards the bedside table, setting down a tray with several dishes on it.

“What the… how… the hell are you doing here, Red?” Liz asked, her eyes wide, trying to make out his expression in the dim light. It didn’t help that at that moment an unexpected sneeze forced its way out of her body and her eyes started watering.

“If I make you breakfast in bed, a simple ‘thank you’ is all I need. None of the ‘how did you get in my house’ business,” he stated casually, nodding once in her direction before handing her the box of tissues he spotted on the bedside table. She pulled one out and wiped her face clean as he moved around the bed, opened one of the window drapes slightly to let in the early morning light, and disappeared into the bathroom.

At this point, she really wasn’t _that_ surprised that he could enter her apartment without a key. What she really wondered was why he was here, now. They had been on good terms as of late and while she considered that he might be here to give her information on another blacklister it didn’t make sense that he would bring her breakfast.

Liz glanced over to the dishes to see what was there as Red returned from the bathroom holding the opened bottle of allergy medication. “Here. Take two of these,” he said, as he placed the pills on the tray along with the rest of the bottle.

“What’s for breakfast?” Liz asked, as Red settled himself into a chair in the corner of the room.

“Green tea with honey and lemon, to help soothe your throat, and oatmeal with walnuts and a sliced banana.” Red crossed his legs and tilted his head toward her. 

Not wanting to appear as an invalid in his eyes, she sat up straighter in bed and grabbed the pills and downed both in one swallow with a sip of tea. She sighed as the warm liquid coated her scratchy throat.

“My mother,” he paused as she reached for the bowl of oatmeal, “she swore by this recipe when I was a child. She said it was a miracle cure passed down through the generations.” He laughed then, the memory coming to the forefront of his mind. “I had my doubts, even at a young age, but she always took such good care of me.” Red’s head tilted up, his eyes straying around the room, and smiled as if he was seeing the ghost of his mother looking down on him with affection.

Liz took another bite of the oatmeal, caught up in the moment and the sudden silence, save for the click of the spoon in the bowl. Red looked at her then, a small smile still in place, and briefly caught Liz’s eyes with his own before looking down at his hands resting in his knees.

“Why are you here?” Liz asked, as she placed the empty bowl back on the tray and grabbed another tissue, sliding back down on the bed.

Red stood, walked toward the bed, and gently placed a hand on Liz’s clammy forehead under her watchful eyes. “You’re a little warm, but you don’t seem to have a fever. Another day’s rest and you should feel more like yourself again.” 

As he started to pull his hand away, Liz grabbed his wrist to stop him from walking out of the bedroom. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Though her sudden wake-up call from a supposed intruder was enough to get the adrenaline pumping, Liz’s body was still fighting the onslaught of pollen and was quickly pulling her back to sleep. 

As her hand dropped from his wrist to the bed, Red gently touched her cheek and smiled. “Sleep now. I’ll be back later.”

Liz tried to keep her eyes open as she nodded, the outline of his figure in the dimly lit bedroom becoming fuzzy as he picked up the breakfast tray and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him with a click. In spite of the questions and the unusual situation she found herself in, Liz smiled. She was certain that the miracle cure given to her was not so much about the food or drink given, but the presence and care of the person bestowing it. With a deep breath, Liz fully closed her eyes and contentedly slipped into slumber with the hope that Red would be there when she awoke once again.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is from [jessahmewren's tumblr](http://jessahmewren.tumblr.com/post/90114078052/lizzington-fan-fiction-prompts-master-list): 19. Red says the following: “If I make you breakfast in bed, a simple ‘thank you’ is all I need. None of this ‘how did you get in my house’ business."


End file.
